


I Fixed Undertale for You

by CaptainHairball



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Death, Awkward Romance, Blood, Blood and Injury, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Implied Romance, Other, Pie, Short & Sweet, Slow Romance, Tenderness, Time Travel Fix-It, female-unspecified romance, non-gendered protagonist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29153979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainHairball/pseuds/CaptainHairball
Summary: Toriel dies. Player isn't having it.
Relationships: Toriel/Undertale Player
Kudos: 5





	I Fixed Undertale for You

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% autobiographical. 
> 
> Player is of unspecified gender, which I'm disappointed AO3's tagging system doesn't support.

Toriel fell to her knees, clutching her hands to her breast. Coppery red pulsed between her fingers, dripping onto the stone floor of the ruins.

“No!” I rushed to her, pushing my hands down over hers, trying to stop the bleeding. “No! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know I could!”

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” said Toriel. “I didn’t think you were strong enough. But you are. You are.”

“I didn’t want this! I didn’t want this at all!”

She took her red-soaked hands from her chest and folded them around mine. “This is what has to happen. You’ll do fine. Mom… mom just needs… to go to sleep, now.”

That was bullshit.

Time ran backward around me. I woke up in a bed that was too small for me. My feet stuck out from under the edge of the blanket. The questionable smell of butterscotch and cinnamon filled the air. I sat up, the bed creaking under me. I thought about my life at home. My real parents. The yelling. School. Being alone all the time. I got up and I walked through the dark hallway, towards the light of the living room.

Toriel sat in a rocking chair reading, red light from the fireplace glinting on her glasses.

“Oh. You’re up already,” she said, beaming at me. “Did you like the pie?”

“I didn’t eat it. I’m sorry. I wanted to see you again.”

She blushed and held a hand to her lips. “Oh! Oh, my. You could do much better than an old woman like me.”

I sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of her. “No, mom. No, I can’t. What are you reading?”

“It’s a book about snails. You wouldn’t be interested.”

“Try me,” I said.

“Well,” she said, turning a page backwards to the beginning of the section she’d been reading, “This chapter is called ‘snails make terrible shoelaces’.” 

I settled in to listen. This time, I was just going to stay right here. Forever, if I had to.


End file.
